Batman: The Caped Crusader
by ZeroBen
Summary: Ongoing Batman title set in the new 52 after issue 22's! In chapter one, we learn following Death of the Family and Damian's end, Bruce is the only one still in Gotham City, sending everyone else away. He's brought back to action by a group of extreme villains called The Skeletons who claim they have nothing left to lose.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any related DC characters.**

**NOTES: Decisions... I decided to bail on my Batman reboot and instead focus on a Batman ongoing that takes place in the New 52. More so than anything I ever done, I'm trying very hard to make this fit into the established DCNU as best I can. The cut off point is all the issue 22's. Except for Zero Year of course since that takes place in the past. Anything in "Detective, Batman, Dark Knight, Batman and Robin" that happens after Issue 22 won't necessarily be a part of this continuity, though I will be adding in as much of the real as I can. Of course, all of Batman Inc. as well, though I will have my own take after what happens with it after Talia falls.  
**

**BATMAN: THE CAPED CRUSADER  
**

Bruce Wayne and the Bat Family have recently gone through their fair-share of trauma and tragedy. It began with the Court Of Owls nearly defeating both Bruce Wayne and Batman. Then... The return of the now faceless Joker. The Family barely escaped with their lives intact, but relationships between them all were greatly tested, strained, and possibly broken. Not long at all after that, Batman's own son, Damian, was brutally killed in a devious and deadly plot orchestrated by none other than the Daughter of the Demon; Talia Al Ghul.

Talia is defeated. The Owls are gone. The Joker as well. Damian has been buried. Ever since, Batman has operated in solo fashion... Relying purely on himself for the first time in quite awhile. In a sense, he has returned to the original plan... The original mission...

_The Original Batman_.

_**"Down To Nothing"**_

_**Part I**_

"I'm telling you, someone is following me - No, I haven't seen them, but I can feel them, I know they're there - I'm at my office, I don't dare go home - Oh, trust me, I don't intend on going anywhere right now."

Frank hung up the phone, moving quickly to his desk, fumbling with the lock on the bottom drawer. Once opened, there was his pistol. This was Gotham City, so he had bought it years ago for peace of mind. But, it wasn't until tonight that he felt he might actually have to use it. He didn't see who it was, but he knew he was being followed. He could feel it... Sense it. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw no one, but knew that someone was there. Why? No clue. But, he just knew they were there.

Doors locked, windows locked, lights all on, he knew they knew where he was. But, he couldn't outrun them and wouldn't dare risk being followed to his home... His wife and three children. Jesus... He would never...

Knocking at the office door, a clap of thunder and spark of lightning accompanying it, forcing Frank's heart to skip a beat, maybe two or even three.

"Go away," he shouted, holding the weapon with shaky hands, "I-I have a... I have a gun! You hear me!? I have a gun!"

The door was then kicked down, and in walked three masked men, no skin showing whatsoever, each holding a gun of choice. The masks were white skulls with stylized black markings, their clothing was black and military.

Frank kept the weapon raised, but knew he couldn't take them all out before one sent him away. Beads of sweat pouring down his face, pulse a bit too fast for his liking, Frank stood his ground, swallowing hard down a rough and scratchy throat suddenly dry, "Who... Who are you?"

One of the masked men stepped forward, weapon aimed steadily, "You're going to do us a favor."

"Wh-what?" did he hear that right.

"Tomorrow at Noon, you're going to walk into Gotham City Police Department... _Naked_. And you're..."

"Screw you!" Frank blurted, but was then shot across the right shoulder, his gun dropping as he cried out in pain, falling forward onto the desk.

The masked man continued on, "And you're going to pass along a message. You are going to speak with James Gordon, and you're going to tell him that _The Men With Nothing Left to Lose_ have arrived."

"No, no," he sobbed, holding his bleeding shoulder, the bullet having gone right through, "I-I won't do that. Y-You can't..."

"We can," the voice was calm and very deep, "And, in case you're one of those people that need convincing; Just go home and ask your wife... Oh, I'm sorry, we have your wife."

"No," he cried, "I'll..."

"You'll do as I told you to," the masked man assured him, "Then... Your wife will be returned and you two can live happily ever after."

**:::Television Report:::**

"And yes, you're hearing us correctly. It seems that well-known and respected accountant, Frank Hawkins had - only moments ago - walked into the Gotham City Police Department in the nude. As of now, he is being held in a cell for public indecency. As of this time, it has not been made aware to the general public why Mr. Hawkins did this. Of course, more on this afternoon's breaking story as it becomes available to us."

"The time now is 12:37pm, and the unofficial word from Mr. Hawkins on why he did what he did is this... And it's a quote straight from Police Commissioner James Gordon, whom Mr. Hawkins wanted to speak to directly. He said..."

**:::The Cave:::**

"... The Men With Nothing Left to Lose have arrived? What do you make of it, Master Bruce?"

"Desperation. Willing to do anything. Maybe even capable of anything."

In his Batman suit, sans mask, Bruce was hard at work on the computer yet again, as he had been many times over. Needless to say, he was already busying himself with investigating the happenings from earlier. Frank Hawkins walked into GCPD, naked, demanding to see Jim Gordon, and then passed along a message. Apparently, this wasn't supposed to be leaked to the press, but it had been, much too early.

"I wonder what they're after?" Alfred asked as Bruce sat up from the chair, heading over to the Batmobile...

"Too soon to know," Bruce pulled the mask over his head, truly becoming Batman in the process, "But... I intend to find out."

"Of course, Sir," Alfred remarked as Bruce entered the Batmobile and drove off into another cold Gotham night, "I would expect nothing less."

**:::Gotham City Police Department:::**

A thin line of smoke pushed through his lips and past his mustache, dissipating in the chilled night air.

Being a Police Commissioner in Gotham City, you saw a lot. But, Gordon never imagined witnessing what he did this afternoon during the lunch hour. He was currently trying - possibly in vain - to rid his mind of the naked image of Frank Hawkins. Couldn't, though. It was burned in there. However, even more troubling was the message Frank had passed along. This came out of nowhere. Prior to now, no reported sightings of the men Frank claimed had forced him to do this.

Suddenly, Jim heard a familiar sound, and glanced over his shoulder to find the Batman standing there, cape blowing in the breeze, "I knew you'd show. That's why I'm already out here."

"I need to know what Frank Hawkins told you," Batman spoke in his cold and deep voice, "What wasn't told to the media."

"Yeah," Gordon snuffed out his cigarette, "That person, by the way, is on probation. Anyway, Frank told me that these guys were dressed in skull masks and military gear. And the one who talked was using a voice changer."

Batman concluded, "So... Skull masks, military gear, nothing left to lose."

"I'm drawing blanks to be honest," Gordon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a fleeting second, "This may be one of those things where we need to wait until we get more to work with."

When he opened his eyes, Batman was already gone, "Yep, should've saw that coming. Eh well, at least I get to get out of this damn cold."

**:::Meanwhile:::**

A bank in Gotham City...

_EXPLOSION!_

The front of the bank was blown open, tiny cinders and ashes mixing with the light snow that began to fall. Five men, their clothing and masks mirroring the ones who had confronted Frank Hawkins the night before, stood in front of the bank. They walked in, guns drawn just in case, moving through the bank, setting up small explosives in seemingly strategic spots. The vault was coded electronically, and it appeared that one of these individuals knew exactly what sequence to punch in.

"Camera," one ordered another. When the camera was ready to roll, the supposed leader began, his voice altered deeply, "My name isn't important, as isn't a single one of my comrades. What is important... Is what I represent... What we represent. We are the manifestation of the after-effects of Gotham City's greed. We are the bones picked clean. We are the ones with nothing left to lose. Gotham City, we are your Skeletons, and we are here to take back what's been taken from us. And that, simply, is... _Everything_."

"Cut!"

The next moment, the camera lens was pierced by the tip of a finely thrown battarang. Then a grappling hook pulled the one holding the camera right out of the small bank, past the various chunks of flaming debris.

"Guard up," the leader ordered his men, "Shoot to kill."

Suddenly, the man was hung upside down from his ankle, swinging side to side at the head of the bank. Though his mask remained secure on his head, you could sense the fear and pain behind it, little dribbles of blood falling from his lips, and was that a tooth ticking against the ground, too?

"Where is he!?" the leader shouted, shotgun ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"I don't know!" the victim exclaimed through muddled speech, "I didn't sign up for this! Get me down! I quit!"

The leader's eyes thinned behind the mask, and his aimed his shotgun directly at the man's chest. The only way out was...

"AH!"

The leader turned on his heels, shotgun still up and ready, and found that all his men had been taken out, laying unconscious on the floor, the last having just been put down by Batman. How the hell did he do it? How did he get inside without anyone seeing? Screw it, he really was more bogeyman than normal man. No two ways around it.

"This ends now," Batman spoke in his own deep voice, "Before any innocent people end up hurt."

"You got it wrong, Batman," the villain corrected the hero, "I have no intention of hurting _innocent _people."

"Frank Hawkins?"

The laugh through the voice changer made the man behind the mask seem almost otherworldly, "Frank Hawkins is not an innocent man. I know you know it, too."

"His wife?"

"Guilty by association," he answered, "An accessory to his crimes."

"Frank Hawkins isn't a criminal," Batman stated, "What's your goal? What are you after? Who are you?"

In a swift move, he dropped the shotgun and took out a button of some kind... A switch. When it was hit, the proverbial chorus of explosions rocked the building, throwing flame and debris every which way. Batman happened to be close to one, and quickly lifted his cape over himself to try and shield from the fiery blast. Batman immediately switched the setting on his lenses, making him able to see through the thick smoke, detecting where the man was that he had confronted.

He had been standing at the head of the bank, "If you must call me by name," he cracked the man's neck that had been hanging, "Then call me... _The Skeleton_."

Batman pushed through the smoke, coughing a generous amount as he did so. Once he made it outside, the cops finally arriving, the so-called Skeleton was nowhere in sight. Though, off in the distance, a speeding car could be heard. The police may have drove right by him without even realizing it.

"Gotcha at the scene yet again," Bullock sneered sarcastically at the Dark Knight as he exited the squad car.

Batman glared through the lenses while he raised his right arm, grapple in hand, venturing off into the night, "You're late to the scene... _Yet again_."

"Friggin' Bat," Bullock shook his head, watching Batman zip up into the sky, "Okay, let's go guys. Get this over quick. Clean-up crew time."

**:::Wayne Tower:::**

"I'm telling you, man. Beef up security!"

_Harper Row_.

At times, a lifesaver. At other times... Well... Just difficult to stand. Maybe it wasn't entirely her fault. Maybe Bruce was just looking at life differently these days. He didn't see her as being ready to help either Bruce Wayne or Batman. Though, to be honest, she was a lot closer to the Bruce Wayne side than the alternative. In the end, she meant well and had a very good heart. Still, at times, it wasn't easy having her on his side of things.

"No one is after me, Harper," Bruce assured her, playing cool like always, even in the wake of tragedy, "Ever since the Owls, Wayne Security has been the branch of my company that's had the most focus put on it. No one's set foot on my property since."

"Just listen to me, okay?" Harper wasn't so easily defeated, "This dude uploaded a live stream on the Internet last night. It's been downloaded and re-uploaded thousands of times, if not more. He's going to be targeting rich people."

"I saw the video you're talking about. And what I gathered is that they're after people who stole from them."

"Frank Hawkins didn't steal from them," Harper disagreed, "The bank they blew up didn't, either. Plus, rumor has it that the main guy killed one of his own men."

"What are you getting at, Harper?" Bruce was getting annoyed, "I have things to do today. What's the point of this?"

"Point is... This Skeleton dude is dangerous," Harper said, "I don't want anyone here to get hurt. You need more security. Like... A lot more."

"Look," Bruce sighed, being honest with the girl, "I appreciate the concern. But... Things are already taken care of. Security measures for all of Wayne Enterprises and even Wayne Manor have been updated, upgraded and implemented. No one's getting in here that doesn't have a right to."

Bruce grabbed his briefcase and headed out of his office, "I gotta go before I'm late to a meeting. Lock the door on your way out, please?"

Harper sighed and shook her head. Why didn't anyone listen to her? Was she socially retarded or something? Were the words coming out of her mouth not the words she intended to speak? Bruce Wayne was in trouble, or at least she thought so. Hmmm... If Bruce Wayne wouldn't listen, maybe Batman would? Aw hell, it was worth a try.

**:::Elsewhere:::**

The hiding place for The Skeletons.

"Why don't you ever take off the mask? I mean, we're all brothers in arms here, we won't rat you out."

He had labeled himself The Skeleton to Batman two nights ago. And, because of that, he had made the definitive decision that he would truly become that individual; _The Skeleton_. The mask wouldn't be coming off... Not any time soon, maybe never. He was going to see his mission through to its or his end. The Skeleton was here to stay.

"You're going out tonight," Skeleton instructed his thugs, taking out a piece of scrap paper and giving it to them, "This address."

"You got it, but why? Who lives there?"

"Superintendent of Gotham Schools," he explained, "You're gonna take him out. But, no one else."

"Super-What?" confusion, "I thought we were after money? What... This guy take pizza off the lunch menu or..."

The underling was unable to finish the sentence, Skeleton's strong hand grabbing his throat, choking him, bringing him close, "You do as I say or do nothing at all... As you lay in a pool of your own blood. Understood?"

"Yeah," he squeaked out, "Loud and clear!"

**:::Wayne Limousine:::**

"I'm starting to think this is impossible. For every link I kill, another one shows up in a different torrent. Uploading it live is what's hurting."

"That's fine. Just do what you can, Barbara."

"Do you need me in Gotham?"

"No, I'll get it under control. Stay there, I know the Birds need you right now."

"Yeah... They do. But still, I can come back..."

"Really, it's okay. I gotta go. Bye."

Another upcoming meeting, another ride in the limousine. Bruce sat in the back, having just spoken to Barbara. Last night after his run-in with the so-called Skeleton, he immediately contacted Barbara. The video made had been uploaded live to the Internet. And Skeleton had many of his own crew making sure that it stayed up through various sources. This guy wasn't flying by the seat of his pants. He was smart and knew what he was doing.

"Not to tear you away from thinking about the current case, but what do you make of this fellow, Percion Arkham," Alfred was curious, "Do you wager he's on the up and up? Means what he says about making the Asylum a better and more productive place?"

"Two things," Bruce started, "He wants Wayne money. And, he's supposedly Jeremiah's long lost younger brother," Bruce sighed, the Owls springing to his mind, "We know what I think about long lost younger brothers."

"Of course, sir," Alfred nodded, "Not your favorite kind of _possible _relative, I'm afraid."

"Anyway," time to change the subject, "Where are we meeting, again?"

"The very same establishment which you and Miss Rivers previously convened."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Just say date, no need to wow me with your extensive vocabulary."

"Oh, but I do so enjoy it," Alfred said with a smirk.

Not long after, they had arrived at their destination. Once they had, Bruce immediately recognized the place. Indeed, it is where he and Charlotte had their previous date. Somewhat unfortunately, it had been their last, as they decided it to be in both their best interests to go their separate ways. Though, they did promise to remain on good terms, and had done so as of late. Still, it stung a little. Not much, but enough to notice.

"Mr. Wayne," a young man roughly Bruce's own age greeted him almost immediately, "There you are."

"Percion Arkham, I presume?" Bruce extended a hand and they shook.

"Please, Mr. Wayne," he nearly laughed, "I can't stand that name. Please, call me Percy. Though, it isn't much better."

Bruce partly smiled, "Call me Bruce."

"Well, _Bruce_, I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of ordering you lunch," Percion lead the way, "Nothing much, just salad and some bread."

"Thanks, but I can pay for it," Bruce sat down at the table.

"Of course, but it's a gesture of goodwill, I guess," Percion smiled, "And considering what we both know I'm about to ask... Think of it as the start of reimbursing you."

"If I agree," Bruce noted.

Percion nodded.

"So," Bruce started on the salad, "What is it exactly that you're proposing?"

"Right to the heart of the matter, I like that," Percion said, "Okay... I've been a licensed psychologist for five years now. Roughly around the time of the boom of metahumans and whatnot. In a way, I've seen myself grow alongside that fact. Actually, a good number of my patients over the years have been in one way or another, affected by the metahuman boom."

He continued, "I ran away from Gotham City at a very early age. I saved what money I could, announced my goodbye, then caught a train with every intention of never looking back. But, these past five years, seeing what Gotham City has gone through, what my family's livelihood turned into... I felt so guilty, Bruce. I felt like it was partially my fault. Now, I know that's an out-there way of looking at it, but it's how I feel."

"I had to come home. But, with a mission. A mission to help Gotham City by making Arkham Asylum the place it should and needs to be. It needs to be a safe institution, a rehabilitating environment where it can achieve its original goal. Which is helping the criminally insane... Curing them of the darkness that keeps them locked into these grandiose persona."

"I admire what you want to do," Bruce acknowledged, "But, I have to wonder; Is it even possible? Can someone like the Joker be cured? Riddler, Two-Face, Dollmaker?"

"A fair question," Percion answered, "See, it's my belief that they haven't been cured because they haven't received the proper treatments, haven't had productive stays at the asylum. Let's face it; Arkham Asylum has been used as more of a prison than an asylum. And, with its own revolving door policy."

"You have a point," Bruce noted, "I'm skeptical, but willing to see if anything can come of it. After all, it's better to try, right?"

"That's my belief," Percion smiled, "Let me be clear about what I'm asking of you. I'm hoping you can give enough money to fund a special class to better train Arkham guards, as well as outfit them in gear and more effective non-lethal weapons. Money to hire better qualified doctors and nurses, as well as remodeling the library."

Bruce wasn't thrilled with how long the list was, "A pretty penny, Percy."

"Yes, but... A pretty penny well spent, I promise you."

If nothing else, something to think about.

**:::That Night:::**

The sirens screamed by them, flashing blue and red lights along with them. A father and his young daughter, no older than twelve.

"Uh oh," she said, starting to try and follow them, "I hope no one's hurt!"

"Marie," he chased after her, "You don't know what's going on, don't rush in!"

The little girl ran the length of a block and a half before stopping suddenly when she discovered ambulances and Gotham City Squad cars parked out front of a house. One that she knew who occupied it, "Dad!"

"Jeez, Marie," he was out of breath, finally catching up to her, "I'm not in shape like you are. Don't do that to me."

"Dad," she repeated, "I know who lives at that house."

"Who?" he wondered.

"The guy in charge of the schools, I can't remember his name, though."

"Really?" he said, "Well, c'mon, we don't need to be here, and you don't need to see a dead body."

"He's dead?" she gasped, tears building in her eyes, "That's horrible! How do you know he's dead!?"

He took a breath and shook his head, "I don't know, actually. I... It was just a guess."

"Why would someone hurt him?" she asked.

"I don't know that either, Marie," he took her by the hand, "But, what I do know is that we shouldn't be here. Let's get you home. C'mon."

While they walked away, the father looked over his shoulder back at the crime scene, the lights illuminating his dark eyes and overall cold expression. They then thinned just before he faced forward again.

_**:::::BATMAN: THE CAPED CRUSADER:::::**_

_There you have the first chapter. Surprise surprise, chapter two is already finished. First time I've been ahead of schedule in I don't know how long. So, I'll let this sit for a few days and then post up the next chapter. In the tradition of new 52 Bat Books, I wanted to start off with an OC Villain. Hence, The Skeletons and Skeleton. I hope it was enjoyable, next chapter up soon, please review if you have the time, I'm open to criticism as well so fire away.  
_


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